


Angels Can't Cook

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader Insert, Supernatural - Freeform, angels can't cook, cas can't, cas x reader, castiel - Freeform, cute cas, dean can, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:18:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: In an effort to show his affection, Cas decides to cook all of the reader’s favorite foods. Unfortunately, it’s not as easy as it seems, and Dean does not help the situation.





	Angels Can't Cook

“Sir?” The store employee cautiously approached the man standing in front of the meat case. “Sir, do you need help?”

The trenchcoated figured turned to face her, his eyes narrowed and head tilted, “Is this the best burger that you have?”

“Umm, yes, this is all the ground beef that we have.”

“Is it…organic?”

She forced herself to pull her eyes away from his bright blue ones and looked down at the case. “Well, some of it is. There are signs next to each one that tells you which is organic and which isn’t.”

He looked back down, his head still tilted slightly as he stared at the options. “What is the difference between organic and non-organic? Are they not all made from slaughtered cows?”

The girl looked back at him, her eyes wide as she wondered if he was being serious. “Umm…well, it’s more about what they’re fed and how they’re raised…and that sort of thing…” she trailed off.

He looked up and locked eyes with her again, “I see. Do _you_ care about organic beef?” 

“I mean…I care that the animals are treated well, although non-organic is cheaper so I guess it comes down to how much money I have for groceries that week. If I can afford organic, I try to support good farming practices.” Why was she telling this stranger about her shopping habits?

“I do not believe money will be an issue today, so in light of how Y/N feels about farm animals, I think I will choose the organic.” He picked up two packages of ground beef, then looked back to the girl and smiled, “Thank you, Lilly. I appreciate your help today.”

He left the confused girl behind and wandered off towards the fresh vegetables, his eyes trained on the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. His shopping cart was full almost to the brim, but he wanted to make sure that he found everything Y/N might like. He had spent the past three weeks observing her food choices, things she loved and things she absolutely hated, and was fairly positive that he had gathered enough information to create a dinner that she would enjoy.

_“Why don’t you do something nice for her? Actions speak louder than words, man. Actions.”_ Dean’s voice echoed in his mind as he gathered corn on the cob, cucumbers, and a large container of spring mix and added them to his cart and, after a moment of deliberation, threw in a container of raspberries, a dozen apples, and a couple of kiwis. He made his way to the front of the store, but a bright splash of color caught his eye, and he changed direction.

“Can I help you?” He looked up to see an older woman with wispy silver hair pulled into a bun smiling at him.

“I am not sure. I would like to surprise my…friend. I do not know her favorite flowers, though.” He frowned, disappointed that he had not thought of it earlier.

“Hmm…well, let’s see.” The woman came from behind the counter and, only giving his overflowing cart a cursory look of thinly veiled amusement, began looking through the premade bouquets. “What’s she like, this _friend_ of yours?”

“She is like a summer storm, warm and strong, but also like a hidden meadow, beautiful and wild.”

She looked up at him in surprise, “That is…very descriptive.” She put her hands on her hips as she thought, “None of these are going to work. Wait just a second, hon.” She disappeared into the room behind the counter and Cas stood silently, his eyes roaming the store as he waited patiently for her to come back.

“Alright, how about something like this?” Cas looked towards the voice and couldn’t help but smile widely at the bouquet she was holding out. It was filled with wildflowers, a rainbow of color sprinkled with baby’s breath, the stems held together with a burlap ribbon and fastened with a small pearl brooch.

“That is beautiful. I cannot think of a better way to describe Y/N using a floral arrangement. How much will that be?”

She looked from Cas to the cart, then back to him, “Is all that food for her?” He nodded proudly, and she smiled. “The flowers are on me, hon. She’s a lucky gal to have such a good…friend,” she said with a wink. Cas nodded and made his way to the checkout. This was turning out to be easier than he had anticipated.

* * *

Cas looked down at his flour caked hands and sighed. His assumption of this being easier than he’d anticipated was turning out to be short lived. He looked at the recipe again, then back down at the sticky mess that was supposed to be dough. Y/N had mentioned that when she was younger, her mother had baked the best bread she’d ever tasted. Of course, he didn’t have that recipe, but he figured any homemade bread would be suffice for what he had planned. What he didn’t plan was how difficult it would be to get it the right consistency. Baking was much more exact than the other things he had cooked today, and he was about to give up on the idea of serving warm, fresh bread with the soup course of his extravagant dinner plans.

“What in the everloving hell happened in here?”

Cas gathered the sticky mass of unusable dough and dumped it unceremoniously into the trash can. “I am making dinner for Y/N. You told me that actions speak louder than words, so I am taking an action, Dean.” He walked over to the sink and began scrubbing his hands.

“Yea, but I didn’t mean you had to destroy the kitchen in the process! Y/N _just_ cleaned in here, she’s going to to murder you, man.” Cas turned around in time to see Dean wrinkle his nose as he looked down in one of the bubbling pots on the stove. “What…what is that?”

“It is tortellini. Y/N said she loves tortellini, and since she orders it at every restaurant that serves pasta, I believe that my assumption of it being her favorite food is accurate.”

“You’re not wrong, but how long has this been boiling for? You’re supposed to take it off and drain it, it only takes, like…five minutes. They don’t even look like tortellinis anymore, it’s just soggy noodles and floating cheese.” He turned off the burner and moved the pot from the hot surface. “What else are you trying to make?”

Cas gestured to another pot on the stove as he pulled out the loaf of french bread he had bought as a backup, “Mashed potatoes. She loves mashed potatoes, so I made them from scratch. I found some that you could add water to, but it did not feel as personal that way.”

Dean nodded, “Not bad, buddy.” He grabbed a wooden spoon and scooped out a mouthful. The moment it hit his tongue, Dean groaned and spit it back out. He glared at the flavorless mass as it hit the floor with a wet thud.

Cas looked at him, his brows knitted in concern, “What is wrong?”

Dean wiped the offending potatoes from his mouth and tossed the spoon down on the counter, “Do you even know what salt is? Pepper? Any kind of seasoning at all?”

“They are mashed potatoes, I thought that that was all I needed to do.”

Dean’s eyes widened, “You thought you…just what…where’s the butter? Where is it?” He flung the refrigerator door open and began digging around. “Do we have milk? You’ve got to use milk and butter, Cas, or else it’s just…smashed potatoes. There’s no flavor, just a sad paste that no one wants to eat.”

“I do not need help, Dean, I am managing just fine on my own.” Cas grabbed a bowl and began pouring salad into it. He started cutting up carrots with a little more force than was necessary.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta disagree. It looks like all you’ve managed to do-” he stopped abruptly, and Cas glanced over to see a look of horror on Dean’s face. He looked from the stove top back up to Cas’ face, his mouth hanging open. “What…did…you… _do_?”

“I cooked steak,” Cas said with a shrug before returning back to his carrots.

“No, no, no, that’s not what you did. You made leather…you…destroyed…how? How did you do that? Cooking is _not_ that difficult. You know what, it’s fine, it’s okay. You don’t eat, so obviously that’s the problem here. It looks like you bought enough food to feed us for a month, so I’ll just cook something up real quick and you can take the credit.”

“I said I can do it myself. _I_ am making dinner for Y/N, not _you_.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “No, you are making poison for Y/N. None of this is edible, man. Just let me help. Angels just aren’t cut out for this, obviously. I’ll cook it, you deliver it.”

Cas slammed the knife he’d been using onto the counter and ripped off the apron he was wearing, “Bite me, Dean. I was only trying to do something nice for Y/N, like _you_ told me, and clearly I have made a mistake.”

“Aw, come on, I didn’t mean anything by it…” He trailed off as Cas disappeared. “Bite me? He’s been around me for way too long.” Dean turned back and looked at the kitchen, his hands on his hips. “And of _course_ I’m going to have to clean this up before Y/N comes back.” His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers Cas had carefully arranged in a glass jar he had scrounged from the pantry and smiled. Cleaning up the mess would be worth it if those two got their shit together.

“What happened in here?!”

Dean flinched, then turned and gave Y/N a smile, “We were, uh…experimenting with food. You know, like those..uhh…gastro pubs you hear about all the time.”

She crossed her arms and frowned as she surveyed the mess, “Gastro pubs? And who is we? You had better clean this mess up, because I’m not doing it. Ugh, I can’t believe you. Gastro pubs…” She turned and walked out of the kitchen, still mumbling to herself. Dean grabbed a towel and a fresh trash bag, resigning himself to his fate.

“So much for that nap I was going to take,” he grumbled as he began tossing things into the trash.

* * *

Y/N was laying in bed, still frustrated by the mess she’d found in the kitchen. She had spent hours in there, cleaning and organizing, and Dean had destroyed it in one fell swoop. “Gastro pub,” she muttered as she angrily flipped the page of the book she was trying, and failing, to read. She wasn’t sure why it had frustrated her so much. Dean was usually pretty good at cleaning up after himself, but she was exhausted, and all she wanted was a little appreciation for what she’d spent so much time on.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she laid her book down, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slowly and Cas walked in, a large pizza in one hand and a beautiful bouquet in the other. “Hello, Y/N. Would you like some dinner?”

She smiled and nodded towards the empty spot next to her on the bed, “Sure thing, Cas. That’s really sweet of you.”

He sat the flowers on her desk and shut the door behind him, “I am sorry about the mess in the kitchen. I know that you spent a lot of time cleaning, and I promise I will make sure it is spotless.”

She tilted her head, “What are you talking about?”

“Dean said that I should do something nice for you, and so I decided to make your favorite foods for dinner. It has become very obvious that I do not have the skills necessary to do that. Reading instructions is one thing, actually doing it is quite another. I may have gotten frustrated with Dean and left the mess behind.” He sat the pizza between them on the bed, “I hope that pizza is okay. I will go clean up after myself.” Cas moved to stand up, and Y/N put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Stay…please?” He settled back onto the bed and Y/N flipped the box open, “Why did you want to do something nice for me?”

Cas cleared his throat and looked at her from the corner of his eye, his fingers drumming nervously against his thighs. “Dean said that actions speak louder than words, and I thought perhaps cooking your favorite things would be a good way to show my affection for you.”

Y/N froze, her pizza lingering halfway to her mouth, and she swallowed thickly as she sat it back down. “You have affection for me?”

He looked down at his hands, “Yes, I believe that would accurately describe how I feel towards you.” He was surprised when Y/N covered one of his hands with her own. He looked up to see she was staring at him, a small smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

“Well, that’s good, because I was starting to think that maybe I was the only one that felt that way.” Cas’ brows raised and Y/N’s heart began to race. She had wanted to say something to him for months; but how does someone tell an angel of the Lord that she’s falling in love with him?

“You… _also_ feel affection towards me?”

Y/N nodded, her hand moving from his own to his cheek, his five o’clock shadow rough against her palm, “Yea…I do.” His eyes searched hers, and for a moment she was lost in the bright cerulean depths. She wondered, not for the first time, how something could be so blue. She moved the pizza onto her night stand and shifted so that she was facing Cas. She leaned in and kissed him softly, smiling against him when she felt his arms wrap around her waist. After a moment, she pulled back to look at him, “I didn’t know that angels knew how to kiss.”

“I am not sure that they typically do. I have learned a lot from the pizza man.”

“The pizza man…you know what, I’m not going to question it.” She kissed him again and gasped when he flipped her onto her back.

“What about the kitchen?” Cas whispered, his blue eyes locked with her y/e/c ones.

“Sounds like a job for Dean, if you ask me,” she said with a wink. “Besides, I think you’ve got another job to do in here.”

“I would not call it a job-”

“Shut up and show me what the pizza man taught you.”


End file.
